Join the Club (SWAT Generation 2.0 7)

“You know what?” I asked.

“I know that you don’t feel that way about me.”

That’s when I laughed in her face, which I was sure didn’t help her anger any.

But the thought of me not liking her? Of not having any feelings for her? That was laughable.

The problem was that I felt too much for her.

At least, that was what I thought before.

Now? Well, now I realized that my thoughts about her before were a bit foolish.

Maybe I was giving my importance too much weight.

Would anyone really even care that Delanie and I were together?

Because I honestly didn’t think so.

She tried to yank her hand out of my grip, but I tightened it slightly to keep her from leaving.

“No.” I suddenly sobered. “I do.”

“You do what?” she asked.

“I do have feelings for you,” I said. “A lot of feelings. Feelings that I feel… or felt like… that I shouldn’t have. But I’m done being a dumbass. I’m done. Do you understand?”

She blinked. “No.”

“I’m done acting like what I feel for you isn’t the reason that I’m happy that my sister has a house right next to you,” I said. “I’m done acting like you don’t matter. I’m done stopping by on the pretense that I want to see Asa. I love the kid to death, but you’re the reason I make so many trips out there. I want to see you just as much as I want to see him.”

She blinked, startled.

“I’m in love with you,” I told her bluntly. “Have been for a while. I was just too stubborn to allow myself to admit it.”

Her mouth parted as she blinked owlishly at me. “That’s… that’s insane, Bourne. You don’t love me.”

“I’m pretty sure I do,” I told her. “Because the thought of you pulling away? Of you treating me like you did for the drive over here and in the shower last night for the rest of my life literally makes my heart ache. I want to give us a try.”

She looked over at me, her eyes wide and slightly disbelieving.

“I’m still sleeping, aren’t I?” she said. “I’m having a nightmare.”

I burst out laughing again. “I told you I want to give us a try, and you think you’re having a nightmare?”

She shrugged, eyes serious. “I’m sure it’ll end with either you or me dying. Like, I’ll say yes. We’ll become blissfully happy, and then something will happen. You’ll die. I’ll die. And then one of us will forever be alone while we think about what once had been.”

“I can’t promise that this will all work out with a nice perfect bow at the end. But I can say that I’m totally invested. I’m done playing around. I’m done acting like you don’t matter to me. I’m… I’m in. I’m all in,” I told her.

She swallowed hard, as if she was afraid to believe that what I said was true.

“We’ll talk about this more when you’re done,” I murmured, letting her hand go.

She reached for the door handle of the truck, and I called her name.

She turned back, and during her confusion, I leaned forward and planted a kiss directly on her mouth.

She pulled back, her face a mask of shock.

“What’s your favorite color, Delanie?” I rasped.

She licked her lips and got out of the truck. She was about to slam the truck’s door closed when she twisted back, met my eyes, and said, “Purple.”Chapter 6

Do not pet the peeves.

-Coffee Cup

Delanie

I’d never been to a tattoo parlor before.

It wasn’t what I expected.

My day had consisted of a few meetings that had kept me busy from eight-thirty this morning to right after four in the afternoon.

When Bourne hadn’t answered my phone call, I assumed that he was still getting his tattoo.

And I was right.

As I walked into the large room where the receptionist had directed me, I was surprised to see Bourne laid out on his front, appearing to be sound asleep.

“Do you want to color it in?” the tattooist asked. “The eyes? They’d look badass red.”

“Ummm,” Bourne murmured. “No. I only do black and gray.”

“Like are we talking about the iris? Or the entire eye?” I asked softly.

Bourne’s eyes, that hadn’t opened when the tattooed bald guy talked to him, snapped open like something dangerous had just walked into the room.

And maybe I was that—dangerous.

At least in his eyes.

“The iris, I think,” the tattooist said. “This her?”

“Yeah, this is her,” Bourne murmured. “How’d you know?”

The tattooed man looked up, raked his eyes up and down the length of my body, scanning from my toes to the top of my head, then went back to his work.

“I can see what you mean,” he said, acting as if I wasn’t standing there at all.

He hadn’t even acknowledged me.

Pig.

I gritted my teeth and crossed my arms over my chest.

I’d had a long day. A long day made even longer by the words that Bourne had spilled this morning as I was getting out of his truck.